What was this man?
by Ambroshia Sullivan
Summary: Deacon spies on a mysterious vault dweller.
So i wanted to see some more Deacon fic's. Enjoy!

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Deacon was no stranger to espionage. For many years now he had been the spy of the Railroad and he had seen many things. So when he saw the ancient vault open he was only slightly shocked that PAM's prediction was right.

From the rising platform came a single person. A man in his early thirties, fit with dark hair, wearing the customary blue Vault-Tec suit. He was alone.

"Thought there would be more." Deacon mumbled to himself. He was sitting at a lookout he had set up before hand, which overlooked the vault and an abandoned neighborhood. There was a Mr. Handy roaming around that Deacon had spoken to but other than him, there was no one.

The man clutched a gun and stood motionless as he looked out over the looked like it always had to Deacon, scorched and rotting. Deacon wondered why the man didn't move. Maybe he's one of those who have never been out of their vault thought Deacon as he studied the stranger.

A few moments later a group of mole rats sprang from the ground and rushed at the dazed man. The rumble of the lift having disturbed them. Deacon had his gun in hand, ready to assist if necessary but by the time he had the creatures in his sights they had already been killed. He shifted his sights to the man and watched as he spun around looking for more enemies. His eyes were wild yet his hands were steady. Perfect killing shots on all the rats.

"A little high strung aren't you?" Deacon said to the man who could not hear him.

PAM had made a vague prediction about this vault, saying that it had something important in it but little more than that. Was the important thing this man or was it something in the vault itself? The man was a good shot, sure, but didn't seem valuable enough to warrant PAM's attention.

The vault dweller began to meander toward the destroyed neighborhood. As he disappeared down some trail off the cliff, Deacon went to see if he could get the vault open himself. He found a button but it required a Pip-Boy to open and that he did not have. Was there another way in? Would he have to get Tinker Tom out here to see if he could hack it? Would that man open it if asked?

But those were worries for another day. He had a report to file and needed to start heading back to HQ before it got too late. Being so far away from a fortified settlement made him feel on edge.

He was making his way back when the familiar sound of gunshots reached him. Parallel to him was the town of Concord. And while unassuming at first it seemed that quite the battle was happening just a little further into the town.

Deacon's job was intel and whatever was happening in Concord might be of value. If not, he would have something cool to lie about when he got back to HQ.

The white steeple of a church towered nearby and Deacon decided that churches had yet to let him down so he would watch the fight from the belltower.

From his vantage point Deacon watched as a young black man dressed in minuteman garbe shot at raiders from a balcony. It wasn't all that interesting but it was odd to see a minuteman after what happened at Quincy. The minutemen's weapon was inefficient, shooting only once before having to be "charged up" again. Unlike Deacons gun Deliverer.

Deacon was about to leave when he spotted a familiar blue jumpsuit walking up the main avenue. He was no longer alone but had a german shepherd dog trailing beside him. The vault dweller blew away every raider within his sights while his new found dog pounced on others. One by one the raiders dropped until the whole street was cleared.

"Hey! You!" Called out the minuteman, "I have civilians in here! The raiders inside have us trapped, please help us!"

Without a single hesitation the man picked up an abandoned laser rifle and stormed into the museum building.

The crack of gunfire could be heard, ten assailants or more. As time passed there was less and less shots and then a long period of silence.

Deacon didn't like to admit it but he was concerned for the ballsy vault dweller. When the anticipation really started to bug him he almost went down to see what had happened inside but more raiders had congregated outside and were preparing to to take vengeance on their comrades killer.

A sound from the adjacent building gave him pause as did all the raiders present. Deacon watched with amazement as a person dressed in power armour emerged from inside a crashed vertibird. Power armor was rare and dangerous and for one to appear so suddenly was fascinating.

'This has gotten way more interesting than i expected' he thought as the stranger slammed into the street below.

Minigun in hand, the armored man shredded the remaining raiders. Bullet ricocheted off the armor and like a juggernaut, the stranger just pressed onward. All was well and good until a deathclaw burst from a nearby sewer grate.

"Holy shit." Cursed Deacon as he brought up his gun. Deathclaws were the most ferocious thing in the wasteland and to see one was a death sentence. He would be safe for now but not for long.

He watched with fear as the man ran from the deathclaw. Each swipe mere inches away from the man himself. And that ungodly roar. Any man who could hear that and not collapse was someone not to fuck with.

The man dove into an empty building, followed instantly by the enraged deathclaw. And then something miraculous happened. The mutated reptile had crashed into the door frame the man had run into and wedged itself. Writing and crashing it tried to escape or get further inside but it was stuck.

Wasting no time, the minigun was fired up and a barrage of bullets tore into the deathclaws exposed head. Even from the distance he was at he saw the splatter of blood hit the ground.

The deathclaw fell limp and crashed to the ground, body torn to shreds. And from the power suit emerged the vault dweller, completely unscathed.

That was province, that was a miracle. That was fate and destiny working to save that man's life. Deacon was sure of it.

"I was not ready for today."

The man was sure footed as he sprinted back to the museum. The corpses, all of what which would have killed any normal person, seemed to go unnoticed. The stranger obviously did not understand the gravity of what he had just accomplished. No one Deacon had ever meet could have handled such a thing. Not Glory or a Brotherhood Knight or a Courser could have survived.

What was this man?

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Dont really know where i want to go with this. If you have an idea please comment it. If not, ill just leave it as is. Until next time loves...


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